Bloody White
by sburbiangodtier
Summary: He used her. He abused her. And now she’s going to have her revenge. Rated M for violence, sadism, rape, and slight language. MarluMine.


**Oh my great Moon God Saix! Can it be? A **_**hetero**_** story for once?! Well, let me say here that although I am a rabid yaoi fan, I simply **_**adore**_** Marluxia/Namine. And Sora/Namine, and Riku Replica/Namine. And…Xemnas/Namine because it's simply so cute! But yeah, most of my hetero favorites revolve around Namine. I love MarluMine because it's just so angsty and sadistic, but yet can have a tender side to it if you nurse the story just right. Anyway, I felt like writing this little fanfic during school today, and it's stuck with me. Enjoy. :3**

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Many colors come to mind when I think of the Organization.

A joyous golden; stoic cerulean; moody slate; godly silver.

Different colors to represent different people. But no color sticks out more than death. A deep, unending, black, abysmal color. The color that represents _him._

My worst nightmare. The one that makes the beautiful color of pink look like a death sentence. _Mine_.

"Namine, how many times do I have to tell you?!" Marluxia snapped as he tore my drawing pad from my tiny hands, leaving paper cuts in my palms. "You're not here to daydream and color stupid pictures of things that have nothing to do with your assignment. You're here to serve me. To give me everything I want. Everything I desire. Including paving the way for my rise to Superiority in the Organization. Do you understand this, you stupid, useless girl? Or do I have to discipline you again?"

My eyes filled with tears as he tore my drawing into tiny pieces, but the idea of Marluxia's 'punishment' filled me with terror that I knew should not be there. "No! Please don't hurt me, Marluxia! I didn't mean to do it…" A lump built in my throat and my eyes smarted with more hot tears that trailed down my face.

The evil glint in his eyes that glowed with the prospect of punishment caused me to tremble. "Oh, but Namine…" he whispered as he knelt beside my chair, stroking my cheek and shoulder with his leather-covered hand, "You have been a bad little girl. And bad little girls must be taught a lesson." His touch released a quiet whimper from my constricted throat.

I knew that my sobs and whimpers could not reach his stone-cold heart, wherever it was. But I knew that wherever mine was, it shattered even more every time he did this.

Every time he picked me up and held me down on the table, my heart would shrivel into the size and consistency of a raisin. I could sense it. I could _feel_ it. Every time he touched me, every time he hurt me, every time he broke me, pieces of my heart would chip off and scatter into oblivion. And he had done this so many times, I thought there was nothing left. But whenever he did, the pain did not subside. And I knew it would keep coming. There was nothing I could do to stop him.

And when he was done, trembling and panting, but looking extremely satisfied with himself, Marluxia stood, zipped his coat, and patted my head as if I were a child that just came out of the time-out corner. "I do hope you have learned your lesson, Namine. I would hate to have to punish you again any time soon." His sneer said otherwise.

And he was gone in a portal of darkness. I was left alone, shaken and weak. I picked myself up off the table, crying at how much it hurt. I put on my soiled dress, the one I wore everyday, and sat back down at the table.

It had always been this way. Ever since I was created as a Nobody and discovered by the leader of the Organization, and brought in to help them delve into the research of the memories of the heart. Ever since I had been assigned to be watched by the Lord of Castle Oblivion at the forgotten fortress. Ever since Marluxia had laid eyes on me.

I gazed down at the scraps of paper that were all that were left from the drawing I had been completing before the Graceful Assassin had ripped it to pieces. It had been a drawing of Kairi and I.

Kairi. The seventh princess of heart. The good friend of Sora and Riku. My Other.

Marluxia didn't want me drawing Kairi at all, as it would only negatively affect the experimental memories of Sora, who was to be my test subject when he arrived at Castle Oblivion. And I had been drawing her, wishing that I were her.

I wished that I could exist as somebody. I wished that I could exist far, far away from Marluxia. Far away from Castle Oblivion. Far away from everything that was familiar in this realm of darkness.

Hah. Empty wishes for an empty soul. How appropriate.

I hated Marluxia. I hated him so much. I hated him so much I wished for him to die. But I knew that was impossible. As Axel had once told me, _"We're Nobodies. We don't die."_

But was it so wrong to wish for it?

Whenever he hurt me, I longed to be strong enough to take him down and hurt him too. Not in the same way that he hurt me. No, I wouldn't be that kind to him. I'd make his pain last longer than mine. And I'd make him suffer it, tenfold. Or more.

But all I could do for now was ignore the blood dribbling down my thigh and leg that was staining the pure white floor and chair. I picked up my sketchbook, tears trailing red marks down my cheeks from where the salt water mixed with the places on my face where Marluxia had bitten me. Deep, stinging, bite marks that let everyone know who I was, and what I was. Nothing more than Marluxia's slave of unending desire and want. That's all I'd ever be.

I heard another portal open up into the room. I jerked around, the pain shooting through my body again with the movement; for fear that Marluxia was back for more. But I breathed a sigh of relief at the brilliant red hair and sparkling green eyes underneath the blackened hood of the Organization cloak. Axel.

He was the only one that showed any ounce of respect or care for me, despite being in cahoots with Marluxia and his sadistic second-in-command, Larxene. He treated me like I was any other person. Not just some cast-away girl who was little more than a slave and a starving artist. Literally.

They never fed me. They never bathed me. They never cared for me. If I wanted food or clothing, I had to get it myself by means of whatever I could scrounge up. If I wanted a bath, I had to wait for the rest of them to be done with theirs, when the water was too cold to enjoy it. Marluxia took the longest, of course, and Larxene couldn't take one because she can't get wet. That made the wait a little bit shorter, but not by much.

"Namine…" Axel's voice broke into my thoughts, and I automatically turned my head towards him. He sucked in a quick, harsh breath at the sight of my bloody tears and bruised body. He quickly noted the blood that still dripped slowly to the floor from my leg. A dismayed expression took over the nonchalant look he'd had before, and he hurried to my side, dropping to one knee beside me. "What did he do to you this time?" he demanded.

I shrugged. "Same as always."

Axel's eyes narrowed. "Bastard…" he hissed. "One of these days, he'll pay for what he's done…what he's doing." He rose and looked down at me. "Those wounds need to be treated, Namine. The door's open. Go into the bathroom and clean yourself up. I'll clean up the mess in here." His nose wrinkled at the sick smell of blood and sex, the two strongest scents in the room

I nodded and ran to the bathroom, which was pure white as well. I turned on the tap at the sink, grabbed a paper towel, and began to clean the drying blood off my porcelain-pale skin. As I wiped the blood away, I gazed at my reflection in the mirror. The pale, terrified face of the little girl within it didn't frighten me. It looked like I always did. I always had bite-marks and bruises scattered across my face, neck, shoulders, and arms. Black eyes were not uncommon. My hair was always a mess. And the aching pain that coursed through my body every time I moved was something I'd learned to get used to. It was a normal part of me. I could no longer remember happiness. I couldn't remember safety. I couldn't recall security or serenity or peace. All of those blessings had escaped me from the first time Marluxia looked at me.

When I was cleaned to my satisfaction, I hurried back into the big room to find Axel just finishing with cleaning up the last of the blood puddle underneath of my chair. He smiled up at me weakly. "So, what happened to make him angry with you this time?"

"I was drawing." I said simply.

Axel arched an eyebrow. "Well, you're supposed to be drawing. So…it has to be more than that. What exactly were you drawing?"

"Kairi."

"Ah." The Flurry of Dancing Flames sighed. He was used to my short sentences. I never spoke much to anyone, unless it was telling Marluxia to stop hurting me. Of course, he never listened anyway and I didn't bother wasting my voice and breath anymore. So Axel would keep it at that and leave me alone.

Alone was an underestimation in my book. It wasn't a word that applied to me. Desolate, forgotten, isolated. All of them were good substitutes. All of them fit.

I turned back to my sketchbook and crayons, waiting for Axel to leave. When he didn't, I looked up. The redhead had taken a casual stance against the wall, his arms crossed as he watched me. I understood. He was here to take the next shift in watching over me. I sighed with relief. At least he wouldn't bother to look over my shoulder and criticize my work, hitting me or snapping at me every time that I did something he didn't like. Axel was like that. Nosy, sometimes, but at least he respected me and my privacy.

My thoughts centered on Marluxia, I picked up my pink crayon and my black crayon. I began to stroke the black crayon across the paper, first a body, then arms, then legs. The pink crayon drew tufts and layers of fluffy hair, and instead of a rich blue for his eyes, I used a bloody red, the same color of my blood on his hands this morning. His scythe was deadly, a pink and emerald green with hints of yellow. Then, the same red splashed across the blade.

I wished that Marluxia would be kind enough to put me out of my misery. That he would kill me himself, so that I wouldn't have to suffer at his hands any longer. The thought made me laugh harshly, one short laugh that turned into a cough. Marluxia? Kind? The two words didn't even belong to the same universe, much less the same sentence.

I looked down at the picture I'd drawn. Marluxia, eyes blazing a crimson red, leered back at me, his scythe blade stained with my blood. The head demon of my own personal hell.

A low chuckle came from directly above me, and I turned to see that Axel had indeed drifted over to watch me draw, interest on his face. He didn't look critical, in fact, he looked amused. "Nice depiction, Namine."

I felt a tiny smile on my lips at his grin. I understood. Axel didn't like Marluxia any more than I did, despite the fact that he was assisting the Assassin in his quest for power.

"You know..." Axel said softly, "Sora arrived at the Castle today."

My face must have shown my dismay, for Axel's face fell as well. "You know Marluxia's orders, little one." he murmured as he rested his hand on my head. "Destroy the Keyblade Bearer's heart and you'll achieve what you seek most."

"Freedom." The word tasted so wonderful on my tongue, and yet I could not see it.

Axel forced a smile. "Most likely, although where would you go? You have nothing. It's better to stay with us."

I shook my head. "I'll go back to my Other." At least, I hoped to. Hope was something I didn't put much faith in nowadays, so it most likely wouldn't happen.

The redhead just sighed and patted my head before saying, "Why don't you go get some rest. I'm sure Marluxia or Larxene will wake you, ready for you to annihilate Sora already." I shuddered at his words.

"On the contrary, Axel." Came the last voice I wanted to hear. Marluxia appeared through a portal again, flower petals scattering everywhere. "I want her to start now. We haven't a minute to waste." My hands clenched around the crayons I held, bile rising in my throat at the sickening smell of roses that encompassed Marluxia.

Axel shrugged. "Whatever you say." He turned to smile at me, then left through another portal. I was left alone with Marluxia. Again.

His steely blue eyes caught my gaze, and he smirked. "Being a good girl, Namine?"

I could barely bring myself to nod. "Yes sir." My deep purple crayon pressed deeply into the picture I'd made, making a small indentation in the part where Marluxia's leg was.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaauuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugggggggggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

I screamed and dropped my crayon at the blood-curdling scream Marluxia let out. He had collapsed onto the floor, clutching his leg. My eyes widened as he pulled back the coat flap and pulled his pant leg out of his boot. And to both of our surprises, there was an enormous black and purple bruise right on the location my crayon had been pressing down on the paper. "What happened?" I gasped.

"Hell if I know, girl!" Marluxia gasped. "I was just standing here when it felt like a shockwave hit my leg like one of Xemnas' aerial blades would. Then a blow like Lexaeus' tomahawk hit it, and now this bruise!"

I gaped at the giant discoloration, and as I stared at it, I picked up my red crayon very subtly as Marluxia moaned and nursed his leg on the floor. Very carefully, I drew a thin red line across his forehead, and Marluxia cried out again. I looked up to see a thin gash on his forehead that dripped of blood down his fair face. He pressed his sleeve to his face, trying to staunch the blood flow.

The tiniest of smiles graced my lips as I realized the new power I had. The power that I could use to erase Marluxia from my life altogether. I started to pick up my black crayon again, to draw fading lines around the paper figure to depict fading into darkness when I stopped myself.

_Why end it right now, when I can make him suffer at my hands? _I thought sadistically. _While I pretend to erase Sora's memories, I'll merely be rearranging them, so that I can put them back together again when I'm through with Marluxia, and he'll be none the wiser. And at the same time, I can torture Marluxia in the most bloodiest, gruesome way I can imagine. And since I'm drawing it, since I'm the one in control, I can do anything I want to him!_

I glanced at Marluxia who had risen to his feet, the blood from his wound crusting in his perfect hair. _Finally, we'll see who owns who, Marluxia. I'll finally have my revenge._

And so I did. Everyday it would be something new. A broken rib in the morning, a stomach ulcer in the evening. Bigger and deeper gashes appeared everywhere, and Marluxia could find no reason for it. I was never suspected, as I used my torture pictures in a different sketchbook that Marluxia did not know about. I privately called them my "Countdown to Death" sketches.

Marluxia did not bother me. He was too busy being injured and wondering why it was happening. I had Marluxia wrapped around my fingers, and he didn't even know it yet.

Meanwhile, Sora was going through the Castle rooms and losing memories faster along the way. I had to keep up with my plan, in order to keep them from finding out that I was Marluxia's own Grim Reaper. I had the plans sketched out. Larxene and Marluxia would die at Sora's hands, in battles I had already planned. Vexen's death was not part of my plans. In fact, I was saddened by his disappearance, seeing how he and the other Underground members rarely bothered me at all.

Marluxia's wounds grew increasingly worse every hour, and I couldn't help but laugh in sadistic delight inside every time he came in with a bloody lip or broken nose.

But I waited patiently. Marluxia's time of death would come soon enough, and I could celebrate then.

Sora grew ever closer to the top floor of Castle Oblivion, and the closer the Keyblade Bearer got, the more violent I became with the Lord of the Castle himself. I counted every step Sora took, striking Larxene down along the way.

Finally, I was ready. It was D-Day. Marluxia's time. He had cornered me on Floor 12, while I was mourning the loss of the replica Vexen had made of Riku. The one I'd been forced to toy with as well.

"Look who we have here." Marluxia sneered as I sat there, looking scared and small below him. "I will have to punish you now, girl. For all the trouble you've caused me!" And his hand went up to slap me.

I whipped out my sketchbook and eraser, quickly swiping Marluxia's arm off the page. A screeching cry filled the room as Marluxia's arm went limp and fell at his side. "What did you do?!" he screamed, clutching at the limp appendage.

I smirked, allowing myself to taste the fullness of my victory. "I'm destroying you, Marluxia. One page at a time."

Marluxia's eyes grew wide and he stumbled at me, but another swipe to the page sent him collapsing to the ground, his leg having snapped as well. "Namine! Stop it this instant! I have control over you—"

"That is no longer a reality, Marluxia." I finished coldly, standing to my feet. My sketchbook poised, I redrew his arm and leg, and he stood up shakily. "Damn you, girl! Damn you to the nothingness in which you belong!" he screamed.

I rolled my eyes and pulled out my red crayon and his blue sapphire eyes dimmed with realization. "No! Don't you dare!"

"Too late." I sneered, before slashing the angry red strokes across the page. At the same time, Marluxia's coat ripped in two and blood flew from a wound in his side. He gasped and held it as he tried to regain himself.

Another broad slash of red, and nearly half of his face was torn off. He screamed in agony. I laughed loudly, enjoying my sweet taste of freedom as I stared at bloodied skin and muscle hanging from his white cheekbone. I continued to slash at the paper as Marluxia's blood splattered the walls and stained the pure white. Bloody white for the pure soul he would never be. Bloody white for the virginity that I had lost to him. Bloody white for revenge.

And when I was finished with my masterpiece, Marluxia was slumped into a bloody heap on the floor. "Na…mi…ne…" he rasped, barely coherent thanks to having half of his tongue ripped out and flung halfway across the room. I smirked sarcastically. "Goodbye, Marluxia. I hope you find what you're looking for…in the ever-blooming darkness."

"No!" he screamed as I made the final touch. Black fading lines appeared around him as he gaped at me, reaching out as if to grab me, before he faded into a flurry of black wilted flower petals.

I watched my tomenter fade, never to touch me, never to hurt me, never to break me again. I smiled with satisfaction. For once, I was glad I couldn't feel guilt or remorse. Because now I could bask in my accomplishment, in my freedom.

Sora went to sleep soon after. His memories will return. But for now, every day I put a new vase of roses in my room to brighten it. Yellow roses, red roses, pink roses, blue roses, and black roses. And one rose in particular. A single white rose splashed with bloody red streaks, to forever remind me of my freedom. And my power to achieve it.

I know that someday, I'll find my true place in the world. My right to have happiness and peace. My bloody white freedom.


End file.
